Page 66 of Operation Annulment
He takes my hand. “So, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“I, um, I don’t have a lot of hobbies because most hobbies cost money. That’s something we didn’t have growing up. I wanted to try out for basketball in junior high, but my mama couldn’t come up with the money, so I was a yearbook editor instead.”
He rubs my arm. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad about that. Yoga and spinning are great hobbies. I never played sports in school—that was Garrett. I was usually reading.”
I smile at the thought of Nate ever being a nerd. I just can’t picture it.
He just told me the most painful thing he went through. I need to be brave enough to tell him my own experience. I take a deep breath. “My dad died when I was six, I think. Our mother struggled to keep the power on and food on the table. There was a man who would stop by from time to time. He never came inside, and it was always late whenhe showed up, so I never got a good look at him. He’d give my mother money, but it never lasted long.
“She began gambling. One day she took Dakota and me to our grandparent’s house, and she never came back. I became Dakota’s mother that day, trying to take care of everything so that we didn’t burden our grandparents. I was so afraid that if we caused any trouble, they’d find somewhere else to drop us. When Dakota was arrested in the fall, I had to call my mom for bail money.” I brush away a stray tear, and he jumps in.
“So, your mom gave you the money. If it’s a loan, I can pay it off for you. You shouldn’t have to work yourself to death trying to fix someone else’s mess.”
I laugh despite everything. “Then how will you ever prove to your dad that you don’t need to run the vineyard, Nate? You keep the tattoo money for your dreams.”
He cracks a small smile at my joke but waits for me to answer his question.
“It wasn’t a loan. She just paid it and told us where she’d been for the past decade. I guess her gambling got her into some trouble, and the mystery man had to bail her out. Oh, side note: The mystery man runs a motorcycle club… and is apparently my father.”
Nate whistles through his teeth. “That is some heavy shit, babe. So, he was never dead?”
I sigh. “Nope. I guess the whole time my mother was gone, she was sending money for Dakota and me to live on. Our grandparents pocketed that money, though. There was enough to cover clothing, vehicles, and college. We never saw a dime of it, though. Maybe it’s just as well knowing where it came from. So, there you have it.”
He pulls me into his strong arms. “Have you talked to your grandparents about the money? I can’t believe you’ve been trying to handle this alone. I know your sister had all the charges dropped against her, but I had no idea you were facing all this. Has your dad tried to contact you?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t spoken to any of them. I think I’m stilltrying to make sense of it all. You can only handle so much news before it becomes too much.”
Nate’s lips brush against my forehead. “I’m here now. Let me shoulder this burden with you. You don’t have to take on everyone else’s problems anymore.”
Tears drop down onto the quilt beneath me. “I’m in love with you, Nate.”
I hadn’t meant to say it, but the minute the words are out there, it’s as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.
His hands stop making circles on my back. “You’re in love with me or you love me?”
I frown. “Are they not the same?”
He turns me until I’m facing him. “Well, there are?—”
I place my fingers against his lips. “I’m going to go ahead and stop you right there. I love you. I have for a while now. I don’t need sixty days to try it out. I want you for as long as you’ll have me.”
I’m just a girl standing before a heavily tattooed man with my heart in my hand.
No big deal.
He grins. “I love you too, Katy girl. I’ve known since the moment you went down on me in my car while you were drunk on tequila shots.”
I slap his arm playfully. “Why do you have to ruin a perfectly romantic moment?”
He pushes me back against the old quilt, rolling his hips to pin me in place. “Did you say romantic? Because I saved Dakota’s photo of you in a wedding gown. You’re so fucking perfect, babe.”
I tip my head back to look up at him, knowing that all that scruff and roughness is just a façade. It’s there in his eyes—the same fear that I have.
It’s as if they’re pleading with me.
Please don’t leave me.
Don’t hurt me.
